Magenta Dreams
by Crystal08
Summary: Dramione. Set after the war when everything was settled and was kinda back to normal. Hermione became a psychopath and Draco was the reason behind it. Well, sort of. Noncompliant to some parts of DH.


**Magenta Dreams**

**by Crystal08**

**Disclaimer**: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K.R. This is my alternate universe, so back off! Oh, and I borrowed the characters from her. Smiles!

**Notes**: My loverly twin, Jhay07, inspired me to write this fic. It's a psychodrama by the way, and my very first. She wrote this psychodrama that was really cool and totally freaky and fell in love with it. She provided me some pretty tough specs, which can be found below, just to play with my discombobulated mind. Yeah, she loves me like that. Anyway, I dedicate this fic to my friends, the SA people, and to my lovely betas, my twin and Lunalovegood023, who has finally posted her drabble. Anyway, I hope you like this fic! :)

**Specs**

Genre: Fantasy

Plotline: Revenge

Characters: there should be a psychopath

Keys: a black stray cat, a skeleton key, an old lamp, and the color magenta

**Summary**: Dramione. Set after the war when everything was settled and was kinda back to normal. Hermione became a psychopath and Draco was the reason behind it. Well, sort of. Noncompliant to some parts of DH. Yeah, I suck at summaries.

**A/N**: None of the keys will be appear here in th first chappie, in case you might be looking for them.

**Prologue: Reasons Never Die**

"Coward!"

She thrashed around the padded room looking for things to throw, and when she found none, she resorted to pulling her hair. After a while, she sank into one corner, her hands gripping her bushy hair, and repeatedly saying "coward."

This was how he found her, the love of his life.

"She's having an episode again. It's the fifth time this day. It's always around this time of the year when she goes into tantrums. No one knows why. She would not tell," the concerned Healer said. They were outside the room looking at Hermione through a one-way glass.

"I do," said the man beside her.

The door opened and in entered a Healer clad in sickeningly white robes. Hermione looked up; her eyes searching the room for the intruder. Her gaze fell upon a crown of blond hair and in an instant her eyes were filled with so much venom it could've killed a hundred men. A tense silence settled upon the room. The Healer, noticing the absence of sound, broke the silence by clearing her throat. Hermione looked down.

"Well, I'll leave you here, Mr. Malfoy. I still have patients to attend to. If you're done, just summon any of the nearby Healers," said the Healer with a quick smile before turning to leave.

"Thank you," Draco called after her. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. She immediately became wary of his movements. Her eyes followed his every step.

It has been three years since they last saw each other and much has changed. He will never forget the night that determined their fates, and neither will she ever. She was immediately swept back to the past.

_'It's been five minutes. He's never late,' thought Hermione while pacing back and forth. She suddenly stopped midway. 'What if something happened to him?' She thought hard, exploring her mind if he ever said anything that might be the reason for his tardiness. She found nothing._

_She walked to the edge of the beach. The moonlight shone on the water's glassy surface. It was a serene night, and he was most likely to sketch this scene. He loved to sketch. She didn't know why. He says it's a hobby, but to her it was more like a habit. He would sketch whatever and whenever, as long as he had a piece of paper and a pen within his person, which he always did._

_Once, she tried telling him to do paintings because she thought that his pen sketches were too monochromatic, and that it needs color to liven it. The conversation ended up in his stern refusal and him drawing a caricature of her and her babbling mouth. She took that drawing from him and kept it._

_She sighed. Her thoughts where wandering again. She looked around, her eyes scanning the whole length of the beach for any signs of him. Her eyes darted to the cottage. Their cottage. She never thought it possible - muggleborn and pureblood living together in a hideaway somewhere in the Caribbean. They weren't married, just cohabiting. His conceited and egotistical parents would never have allowed a marriage between a "mudblood" and a "pureblood."_

_She wondered when they would see reason. The war is long over. Their precious half blood leader has fallen, yet they still believed in his ways._

She was brought back to the present when she heard him mumble something.

"Hey," he managed a mumbled greeting. There was no reply from her. 'Nice one, dumbass. As if she'll greet me back,' he thought. She did not seem to hear him, so he cleared his throat.

She looked at him. "You!" She pointed a finger at him. "What are you doing here?" Her voice wavered, as if she was preventing a thousand different emotions from spilling like a dam.

"I came back for you," he answered. His voice sounded regal as always, though it hinted a bit of fear and guilt.

"Leave. Now." She replied standing up and indicating the door.

"Let me explain fir-"

"There is nothing to explain." She cut him off. The hatred in her voice threatened him and he took a step back.

"Please, hear me out. You have to understand me," he pleaded. His eyes begging for her to listen to him.

What she saw in his eyes surprised her, because Draco Malfoy never begs. Ever. It was not something a Malfoy would do.

"Understand you? I have been trying to understand you for the past three years! What else is there to understand?!" She was shouting now.

"My reason for leaving you."

She sat down, feeling at a loss for words. He took this opportunity to explain his reasons.

"You're right. I am a coward," at this, she snorted. "I-I was afraid. I was shocked. I didn't know what to do. It was something I coudn't handle. I just-"

"Didn't you ever think that you're not in this alone? That I'm here to help you? That I'm not going to leave you?" This is becoming a habit. This cutting off thing, but for a deranged woman, she talks sense.

"I know," he paused for a while before speaking again. It was clear that he's having a hard time saying what he's about to say. Finally, he blurted it out. "I'm sorry."

"Impressive!" She clapped her hands in mock amusement. Her expression then changed into hostility. "But do you think that's enough?!" She was shouting again. "Do you think that that 'I'm sorry' is enough to repay all the pain that you have caused me? I lost the child, Draco! I lost our child!" Tears filled her eyes.

He knew this, of course. It hurts him to see her like this, and it it hurts him that the child is gone. That their child is gone.


End file.
